Gorto? Yeah, Gorto! GORTO!!!
This is, without a doubt, the single stupidest thing that has ever, and I do mean EVER, happened to me in my three+ years working with the [ ] corporation. This is a stpry that I will repeat over and over again to my friends, to my co-workers, to my children and my grandchildren, one that I will honestly and sincerely remember for it's sheer stupidity alone, until the day I die.
In without a doubt the single stupidest argument that has ever occured within that store, [ - ] and I got into an argument tonight over Gorto, the six-headed demon god from Valhalla.
The saddest thing is that, no, I am not kidding. I will repeat that sentance a second time now for dramatic effect. Be sure to stress it more the second time you read it ...
... [ - ] and I got into an argument tonight, an actual [ ~ ] argument, words were spoken, things were said, over Gorto, the six-headed demon god from Valhalla.
Can you believe that? I mean, can you believe that? Let the stupidity of that sink in for a bit there.
Now, let's repeat that wondrous sentance a third time for dramatic and, to a lesser extent, humorous effect, shall we ... [ - ] and I actually got into an actual argument tonight over Gorto, GORTO, the six-headed demon god from Valhalla.
Gorto? Yeah, Gorto! GORTO!!!
So as a lead bookseller, it is my duty to fill out the daily assignment sheet and let everyone know what they're doing. It upset me at first that no one usually took the time to read it until say an hour or two before we closed, so I always try to make it funny so that people will see what "wackiness" that crazy, funny Steve guy is up to and, as a result, know what the hell they're supposed to do. Usually, I find a theme and give people nicknames accordingly, like, Dr. Seuss titles ... and you're "Green Eggs and" Natasha, "Are You My" Steve, "The" Ian "That Stole Christmas" and so forth.
So tonight I wanted to do something different, so I decided, in one of my trademark humorous moments that I do all the time, decided for a funny bit to make someone up and pair that imaginary person up with someone to clean up a section, funny Andy Kauffman sort of crap, so that I could go up to Erica and say, "Hey Erica, just to let you know, you and Col. Schvantz are recovering magazines tonight."
So I assigned to clean up the breakroom " [ - ] and Gorto, the six-headed demon God from Valhalla." I thought that was funny. Comic gold. I think that I stole it from an old "Ren and Stimpy" cartoon, actually, although I might be mistaken.
[ - ] read it, ripped it up, pulled me aside, and told me that he had read what I wrote on the daily assignment sheet and said that he was hurt and offended and didn't "appreciate it one bit." I laughed it off until he stormed off. Can you believe that? He was actually hurt and offended by that.
[ - ] got offended by that? Then if he ever saw an episode of "South Park" thyen his testicles must explode or something because this is just the stupidest thing that has ever happened to me ever, spending seven hours at work thinking about Gorto the six-headed fire god from Valhalla. I tried to continue my work day but [ - ] would avoid me, not talk to me, not look me in the eyes like he knew that I was the Son of Sam or sonething.
I can only assume that he thought that I was calling HIM Gorto the six-headed demon god from Valhalla.
Later that night, I decided to write the events down in my "Children's Section Bookseller Communications Folder" which just so happens to be equipped with a notebook that has been placed there as both a way for my workers to communicate what has been done and needs to be done but also is there for workers in the kids section to rant. The golden rule is that what is written there STAYS there. And I wrote what had happened, very politely as per my modus opperandi as the manager in charge of the children's section, and I wrote it MINUS the cussing, saying that I really was sorry for the mistake but, Jesus Christ, it wasn't my fault that [ - ] couldn't take a goddamn joke.
All this over Gorto, the six-headed demon god from Valhalla, right?
This next part is kinda creepy.
So we're closing the store, I'm straightening the maps display, and I find a book that goes in my children's section, so I walk back to the kids section and I see [ - ] in MY section going through MY desk until he found MY "Children's Section Bookseller Communications Folder" and saw him flipping though the notebook until he found what I had written about today's events. Now I don't care how offended you are about Gorto, the six-headed demon god from Valhalla, but THAT is creepy and scary and psycho and going way too far, okay?
ALL THIS over something as incredibly stupid as Gorto, the six-headed demon god from Valhalla.
Gorto? Yeah, Gorto! GORTO!!!
I walk up to him, clear my throat, and ask him if he needs help with anything. Silence. Doesn't move, Just keeps reading. So I, feeling scared and pissed off and uncomfortable and a whole heaping helping of I don't know what the hell else, stammered out a half-assed apology to him, saying that I never meant for him to get upset over what I had written but it was honestly a stupid little joke and that the last thing that I meant was ...
I was still stammering out an apology when he put the folder back in the desk and walked out of the kids section, not saying anything, not looking at me, nothing. Absolute Helen Keller silence.
Someone seriously needs an enima is what I'm saying.
Sorry for trying to be funny. There's such a thing as a sense of humor, you know. You might want to think about buying one.
SCROLL TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS PAGE TO LISTEN TO MY HILARIOUS AND WILDLY OFFENSIVE PODCAST!
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
Thursday, November 13, 2003
BACKGROUND: Primus "Pork Soda"
There is apparently a vision of the Virgin Mary in the United States right now, in New Jersey, in fact, which is astounding enough as it is considering what a rundown piece of shit state New Jersey is. Have you seen this so-called "vision?" How fucking stupid are people? Are Americans so desperate for some faith that theywill believe that an ugly, misshapen tree stump is the Virgin Mary? I've taken shits that look more like the Virgin Mary than the holy tree stump.
Being someone who created their own religion in 1996, I have spent the last eight or so years being super religious tolerance man. But the stupid, ignorant piece of shit religious right in this country has been pissing the hell out of me lately. Now I just have to tell the truth. Anyone and everyone who thinks that this is a holy vision is fucking stupid and should be put out of their misery. It's a stump, you dumb fucking idiots! A fucking tree stump! Get your heads out of Jesus' asshole and stop sucking God's cock, you ignorant piles of shit!
Sunday, November 2, 2003
BACKGROUND: Family Guy/Sealab/Aqua Teen
My vacation was fucking great. Went to San Francisco and saw Primus at the Warfield. That was fucking incredible. I must admit that my knowledge of Primus isn't as thurough as my knowledge of, say, White Stripes or the Groovie Ghoulies, but their album "Sailing the Seas of Cheese" is what got me through high school and at their concert they played the entire album in its entirety. And on Halloween I went trick-or-treating with my little girl and then went downtown and saw the original "Night of the Living Dead" on the big screen.
And tomorrow I go back to work, to sweating and bleeding and crying as the manager of the kids section of a big ass bookstore here in Hellafornia. And there is absolutely no denying it that the holidays are now upon us, you know? And from here on out it's a hardcore, flat out burn drag into Thanksgiving, Christmas, and beyond. I'm a little bit worried and a little bit scared, so I am really not really that excited to sleep tonight.
I just want to sit here and watch my cartoons and drink my soda and eat my cows and wait for sleep to come to me tonight. If I still smoked, I'd light up a cigarette and sit on the front porch. If I still drank, I'd do shots. This month is year one of my sobriety. No big thing. I just don't. If I had ice cream, I would get a gallon of it and bundle up in front of the television all night and into morning. That sorta mood.